


In the End, Reborn

by TheWeepingAngelOfCas



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Mutilation, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 21:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20346721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeepingAngelOfCas/pseuds/TheWeepingAngelOfCas
Summary: Grell Sutcliff didn't remember much of her human life. Yet she knows it couldn't have been good. After all, Grim Reapers are born of taking one's own life.To be honest, she never thought much of it.But then again, things can always change.Trigger warnings for self harm and suicide!! Please don't read if that bothers you, and stay safe!





	In the End, Reborn

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! There is lots of angst, self harm, and suicide in this fic, so please don't read if that bothers you!   
Basically, Grell stumbles upon a young girl bleeding out from her wrists, and isn't sure what to do.  
I wrote this while angsty so please excuse this terribleness.

To a reaper, one's previous life is of little importance. 

Even if it did matter, they can scarcely remember most of it. Some reapers remember a flash of their previous little sibling's darling face, or perhaps they remember how they died.

To a reaper, one's death is something you only share with the choicest of companions.

This is one of the few unspoken, unwritten rules that Grell Sutcliff actually follows. She remembers barely any of her previous life. She knows that mother died in childbirth, and father went away shortly after that. Was it a brother or a sister that raised her? Those brown eyes could have belonged to either gender. After a few early childhood memories, all Grell remembers is the day of her death, and the circumstances of it. 

How old had she been? She couldn't have been more than 17 at the time. Everything had been so lonely and so confusing for so long. Was she a girl or a boy? Why did father leave? Why was everything always so cold? So numb?

The only clear thing she can recall about her past is the position she died in.

The floor was stained red, crimson gushing from the deep gashes on her wrists. Her thighs were marred with scars, some of them still fresh. White lines crisscrossed her body like the most beautiful braided tapestry. Her arms were splayed out to her sides, a large knife being held loosely in her hand. Grell's skin had been ashen, even whiter than the porcelain it was now. She had died lying on the cheap tile in the kitchen. Her sibling had found her just a few minutes too late.

But, one situation led to the next, and here she was now. She was so, so much happier. Than again, most reapers were. Their jobs were hard, and sometimes the sorrows of their pervious life would linger around for a little while. But besides that, they were happy. Grell was, for once, no different. William loved her. They both had amazing, well paying jobs. Every morning she'd wake up to breakfast and a kiss on the cheek before work. It was a routine they were both happy to have. William for the schedule, and Grell for the convenience. Then, work would start, and she'd collect all the souls on her roster, before heading home.

Her life as a reaper was amazing. But there was one part she absolutely hated.

And this was one of those parts.

The name of the soon to be deceased barely mattered. Yet today, one name did. 

Hannah Rosary. 

Her picture, her life, her everything, was in that stupid little death roster. She was going to die today, at 3:27 AM, from self inflicted wounds.

Grell hated collecting the souls of suicide victims. It hurt to watch the life fade from their eyes. Yet then again, that light was barely there in the first place. They looked so beaten, so dead, even before they got to it. In her picture, there was a large smile on her face. To the passing person, it would have looked like she was having the time of her life. Yet the eyes always told a different story. They looked so bored. Dull and almost glassy. Their eyes would give away what their faces were trying so hard to keep hidden.

When she arrived to Hannah's room in her family's little house, Grell almost stopped herself from going inside. Perhaps, if she just waited one more minute, Hannah's mother would find her, and help her before it was too late. Yet all the other Reaper's would tan Grell's hide for that. No, she had to go in.

Just as Grell expected, it was not pretty.

Hannah was lifeless on her bed, blood smearing the nightstand and the wall. Finger shaped stains covered the room, and Grell thought as though she was going to be sick. The girl was choking out her last few breaths, and as Grell approached, she looked over, wide-eyed and scared.

"Shhhh," Grell smiled, the best she could, "It'll be better soon, Hannah."

The girl's eyes spoke so much without uttering a single word. A mix of 'thank you' and 'I'm sorry'. 

Grell hadn't brought her usual saw with her today. No, she had opted for the scythe she had had during her training to become a reaper. Carefully, she showed Hannah the blade, holding it steady over the girl's chest.

"This will only hurt for a minute. I promise." 

She nodded the best she could.

Grell closed her eyes, and swung downwards. The cinematic record sprung forth, and Grell didn't want to look. If she looked, she would spare this girl's life, even if she was supposed to die. Grell looked down at the body. A few tears were there, and there was a smile on her face. Probably the first genuine smile she had had in such a long time.

"Grell, you know what you have to do." The voice behind her startled her for a moment.

Looking behind her, she whispered, "I know. But do I have to?"

William took her hand, helping her cut and collect the strings of the cinematic record. Grell couldn't help but cry.

"You'll get to meet her soon, dear."

****************

As said, three weeks later, Grell did.

Hannah was a scrawny little thing. Barely 5'2. But she was so pretty, as well. Strawberry blonde hair that went down to her waist, and big green eyes. Freckles splattered her entire body, and her uniform hung off her like she was nothing. But her smile was the best part of it all.

When Hannah laid eyes on Grell, that beautiful, perfect smile got even bigger, and then receded for a minute. 

"Are you...?" 

Grell sighed, "Yes, Hannah."

She was wrapped in a hug. Hannah was strong, Grell would give her that. 

"Thank you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to do that for me."

Grell thought for a moment.

"I'm sorry too."


End file.
